


In the morning light

by muusan



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Feelings, Fix-It, Fluff, Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16055405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muusan/pseuds/muusan
Summary: Miranda makes a confession and deals with the aftermath.





	In the morning light

The apartment greets her with bright artificial light. Technically all lights on the Citadel are artificial, but the glow in the streets in a lot more ambient. The room is also a lot chillier, she shivers as cold air brushes against her heated skin.

Technically Miranda doesn’t need to exercise either, it’s mostly a habit she picked up after the war, a sort of mindless activity to reload and structure the day. Still, it is usually quite enjoyable to work your muscles and lungs, and then stretch deliciously, peel off the workout gear and take a scorching hot shower. Usually, but not today.

Still, her mind is clear when she takes off her running shoes and shuffles along the pristine corridor towards the bathroom. The door to the bedroom is open exactly the way she left it, and when she walks past she can’t help, but look inside. Inside the room everything is also exactly the way she left it — the carefully laid out bathrobe for her to wear, her comm terminal faintly flickering in the background, the covers on the bed, bunched messily on one side, and the dark outline of the man’s figure curved along the angled lines.

As she pauses and leans against the doorway Miranda’s mind is clear, but her heart still clenches. There are things not even the best genetic engineering can change.

Kaidan is sleeping soundly, his broad back rises and falls steadily with every deep breath. He doesn’t like getting up early — very unbecoming of an Alliance soldier, she likes to remind him of that now and again — so he prefers to sleep in if he can afford it. When she untangled herself from his hands, holding her across the ribs, earlier this morning he just sighed and moved them under his pillow, turning onto his stomach and clutching it tightly instead of her. He hasn’t moved an inch now, his face is buried into the pillow, half obscured by grown out hair — also a sign of peaceful life. The tone of his skin makes a sharp, striking contrast with the white cotton of the bed, especially where it dips into the darker shade of beige, outlining deltas, triceps, external oblique and the curve of his lower back. In the faint light of the artificial early morning he seems to be glowing with pale silver, and Miranda resists the urge to just slide back under the covers into the warmth of his embrace and screw the rest of her plan.

 _No_ , she thinks, clenching her teeth and turning towards the bathroom. She has already decided.

She makes the water as hot as she can handle and sticks her head underneath it with a faint sigh. Taut streams soak her hair, making it heavy, so she rests her forehead against the cool tiles on the wall. She also silently hopes today won’t be one of the days when Kaidan decides to wake up early and join her here. The thought is delicious, of course — a small, but insistent shiver of pleasure travels along her spine when she remembers the last time he did exactly that. How he held her up against the slippery wall — with a complete disregard for safety by the way — and with relentless press of his hips made her come so sharp and heated she almost melted. But today she simply can’t, and it would make the situation unnecessarily awkward to have this conversation wet and naked.

How the fuck did she ever allow everything to come to this.

She has only herself to blame, but still looking back it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment Kaidan became a certain part of her life. The first time Miranda ever met the quiet lieutenant previously only known to her on paper he punched commander Shepard in the face and gave her a look she could have deserved if she had killed his friend, not brought him back to life. The second time they met — him already a SPECTRE, her already on the run — was in the restored special tactics lounge on the Citadel, where Shepard outlined their plan to board the Horizon and save Oriana. She expected them to disagree then, to have the angry testosterony debate she is so used to with the commander, but major Alenko only made a few suggestions on what gear they should bring and which way is the safest to approach. The third time they saw each other when she was bleeding heavily from the wound in her side. She watched her father fly out of the window and thought of it as a decent last image, because her mind was already clouded, when Kaidan woke her up. He talked to her, made her look at him, sealed the deep cut with medigel and warmed her hands in his. Kept her alive when she had given up with a determined solemn expression on his face, which as she learned now is so completely him.

The next time was already after the worst part of hell is over. Reapers were circling in high orbit, enormous dead chunks of metal, dwarfing the shuttle as it descended slowly into the atmosphere. The dust had already settled, the Earth still laid in ruins, but Miranda felt invigorated like never before when the doors of the shuttle opened, and she took the first step on the surface. Major Alenko, sent to navigate her through the mess, was waiting for her at the border line of the hastily put up landing zone. The end of the world they had just about been through still reflected on his face, but it was good to see him. Something deep and warm stirred in Miranda’s chest when she looked into his green-tinged eyes and saw him smile.

There were many other times — finding Shepard barely alive, long nights at the hospital, where Miranda helped with the tech in commander’s body and Kaidan kept her company in the evenings he was free from his own work. That time he took her to have a celebratory breakfast the morning Shepard opened his eyes and that time she took him to the Arsenal Arena after a particularly long debrief, where they climbed as far as level 50, before they were politely asked to give other patrons a chance. They somehow settled naturally into unexplainable simple comradery unknown to and impossible for her before.

And then many months later there was Shepard’s wedding with a lot of good champagne, dancing and Kaidan’s hands on the small of her back. There, sitting at the well-lit round table in one of her favorite dresses Miranda took in the edges of major’s crispy white collar and cuffs, the strong line of his freshly shaved chin, the subtle spicy hints of his cologne and realized she just couldn’t help herself. The door of an obscure back storage room of the restaurant had barely closed when she pressed him against it and slid her hands under his jacket. Everything after that was a medley of tongues, fingers, hot flesh, crumpled clothes and all-consuming pleasure, as months of frustration got poured into ruthless and graceless fucking on some conveniently places grates while the newlyweds were cutting the cake in the main hall.

She said then truthfully that it was one of the best fucking times of her life. Kaidan smiled at her dazedly, fruitlessly trying to put his bow tie back together, and she knew she wanted to see that smile again.

That’s it, that is the whole sordid story, she thinks wrapping herself up in a bathrobe and putting a command for black coffee at the terminal. That’s how things came to Kaidan sleeping in her bedroom right now. He just followed her lead and kept to his usual gentlemanly self — never asked her for more, than a single drawer, which makes what she is about to do a thousand times harder.

Speak of the devil, because Kaidan is already standing in the kitchen doorway, half dressed, rubbing last traces of sleep away from his eyes. They get the usual _good morning_ s and _how was the runs_ spoken in gruff voice along with kisses to her temple, hands reaching past her to press button on the coffee maker. She doesn’t shy away, but it does make her hate herself just a little more.

This is the time for her to tell her piece and now, possibly for the first time in her life, her heart is threatening to escape her chest.

Kaidan doesn’t notice the tension. He pours coffee, adds cream and stretches his sinfully beautiful body like nothing is happening, but then seems to suddenly remember his question and turns to look expectantly at her.

For a second the pause is awkward. They keep looking at each other silently, while she hesitates. _Miranda Lawson_ hesitates, holding the words behind tightly closed mouth.

“Everything alright?” Kaidan frowns.

No, nothing is alright. She knows hers is the right way to go, but what if she just pretends everything is fine, just like she did before? What if they never talk about it, and she will get to have this, whatever this is, for a while longer?

Kaidan looks concerned, because all the pausing and evading is not like her. It’s hard to tell what exactly makes her so uncomfortable. But it is time to put all the debate for later, she just has to force herself a tiny little bit and say it.

“I can’t have children”.

It comes out a lot more abrupt and out of nowhere that it seemed in her mind. Kaidan blinks at her, dumbfounded, and then slowly puts unfinished coffee on the kitchen counter. “OK”.

She keeps her expression neutral as she gives him the speech, the whole “perfect genetics come with a price” idea, which she only ever had to voice once before and it was an immensely long time ago, at some point in her previous life. She was never interested in coming close to anyone after that. Kaidan listens to her intently, with a little frown, doesn’t interrupt or show any other emotion. A familiar cold and steely resolve seeps slowly into her bones, because looking at major’s blank face she is prepared for the worst. But the fact that figuring it out now is better than facing the consequences later is not at all encouraging.

When she stops at the end of the last sentence Kaidan doesn’t say anything. The only noise in utterly quiet room is low whirring of the ventilators. A few seconds later Miranda realizes to her dismay that he is _not going_ to say anything, and she can’t take the uncertainty for a moment longer.

The bordering on hysterical _are you going to leave me because of that_ is transmuted into _I understand if you decide it would be best for us not to continue seeing each other,_ the words might be cold and fancy, but all of her insides are trembling.

Kaidan’s gaze softens imperceptibly. He doesn’t look away when he takes a seat across her and leans forward to take her hand in his.

She simultaneously feels like crying and recoiling, because that is not at all the way she imagined it would turn out. She settles for just tightly clutching his hand. Kaidan bites his lower lip, looks like is contemplating something and the next question throws Miranda a little off balance.

“You know how one of my best friends is the Shadow broker, right?” At first, it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the conversation, but she is not called smart person for nothing.

He knew. He knew for a long time, possibly _always_ knew.

Kaidan says, that people always regarded him as naïve, so when a beautiful, perfect in every way and therefore able to have anyone ex-Cerberus officer took interest in him he just had to make sure. And it was too easy with the connections he has, Liara gave him access no questions asked. He actually meant to stop as soon as he realized that Miranda didn’t plan to use him, that report from Illium Medical Center came across the screen entirely by accident, and he couldn't unlearn the _unable to conceive a child_ diagnosis that stared at him from the middle chapter. There is a pink blush high on his cheeks and his smile is apologetic enough for her to disregard the blatant invasion into her privacy and focus on the important part.

“Did you stay, because you wanted us to be casual?”

Kaidan blinks again and Miranda resists the urge to cover her mouth. How the fuck does he make her so unfocused, so stupidly open, she would never know.

“Do _you_ want us to be casual?” He parries.

If she is honest with herself no one asked her this ever before. There was no need — she _did_ want to keep it casual, if the brief trysts she had for the better part of her life could even be considered relationships. And now she feels uncharacteristically vulnerable, like Kaidan has stripped her of all her power, because she is not satisfied with “an arrangement” anymore. Her heart clenches tightly when she imagines emptiness in his seat.

Kaidan’s hand on her cheek brings her back to the present.

“This is so not how I imagined this morning”, he smiles and takes her face fully in his palms. “But we should have settled this long ago”.

And just like that he kisses her on the lips — hot and languid and confident, sighing contentedly when her fingers comb through his hair. He lifts her from her chair onto the empty table and presses them together and whispers into her cheek that he would never leave her because of that. That she is so much more than an elusive promise of spreading his genes around, and he can’t bear the thought of trading her for anything. That she is his, and he is hers, and so it will be for as long as he has a say.

Miranda is not going to cry. No, instead she is going to push him back onto the kitchen chair, shed her bathrobe and straddle his lap completely naked, sink into his waiting embrace, breathe in the smell of his skin, still warm from sleep. She is going to pour all of her gratitude into a kiss, and then she is going to slide smoothly onto the floor between his legs, do a quick work of his sweats and make him beg for mercy with her mouth on his cock, until he moans and curses and can’t decide between tugging her off and pushing her down. And then she is going to ride him, the slick, tight, sweet roll of her hips is going to make them both shudder. And she is going to take her time and watch him from under heavy eyelids, because there are very few things in the universe right now that can compete with Kaidan’s black-brown eyes and his full bitten-red lips that form incoherent sounds and things like _hot_ and _amazing_ and _coming_.

Afterwards Miranda rests her forehead on his shoulder as he lays back in the chair, and they take a few moments to catch their breaths. And there in the sticky afterglow when they are still glued together she traces the bridge of his nose and the high of his cheeks with a tip of her finger and thinks that there is no way two people like them can be forbidden from making a kid. If conventional methods won’t help — not that they should stop trying by the way — it doesn’t mean that there is no hope. After all, with all that superior intellect and insane amount of knowledge and experience if anyone can make it happen it would be her.

She imagines a little boy with Kaidan’s eyes and smiles.


End file.
